


Jump Off A Cliff

by hystericalselcouth



Category: The West Wing
Genre: 2016 Presidential Election, Dialogue, Nostalgia, Seaborn For President, the conversation we've all been waiting for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hystericalselcouth/pseuds/hystericalselcouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The conversation we've all been waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump Off A Cliff

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything, I make no profits.

Sam Seaborn watched as Zoe closed the door behind her when she left the room. Staring at his feet, he breathed in deeply before looking up at the grey-haired man, who, in turn, was gazing amusedly at him, face filled with kindness and paternal love.

“We both knew this day would come.”

“I think looking into the future is yet another of your talents, Mr. President.”

“Sam, you know when I knew this day would come?”

“When I said that the truth shouldn’t be taken lightly?”

Seated in his wheelchair, President Josiah Bartlet chuckled. The air grew tense when his face moulded into one of sad remembrance. Fidgeting with the seat’s cushion, Sam burst – 

“But how did you do it? I don’t know how to go about it, where do I-”

“Sam, its exactly like what I'd said then. A lot of people stand around you and tell you what’s happening, you have advisors to advise you…..and there you are.”

Silence ensued. Then, like a violin’s quivering string, Sam asked, “But…what do I do…. _now_?”

Jed picked up a framed photograph from the table next to him. Two men, arms raised up in triumph. 

“Sam? Do you have a best friend?”

“Yes,” answered Sam, a little puzzled.

“And is he smarter than you?”

“Yes,” replied Sam, this time with a little more mirth in his voice.

“Would you trust him with your life?”

Sam now smiled a nostalgic smile, a fuzzy warmth growing inside him.

“Yes, sir.”

The older man looked at him pointedly.

Bowing his head, Sam Seaborn, the dark horse of this election, smiled again.


End file.
